


debrief

by Splintered_Star



Series: poe and leia [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Last Jedi - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene, Post-Canon, discussion of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 20:45:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13220913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splintered_Star/pseuds/Splintered_Star
Summary: Poe and Leia, post tlj. Talking about trauma, judgment calls and how not to make them, and what you do after you mess up.





	debrief

**Author's Note:**

> aka the discussion i wish we'd gotten in canon but alas

Poe waits until the General is alone on the Falcon, as much as anyone ever is, and sits across from her at the sabbac table. She waits for him to speak, and eventually, he does. 

"I - I fucked up. I fucked up and people got killed for nothing and." A furious movement, hand dragged through his hair. "I fucked up."

"You did." He didn't come to her for forgiveness, because she's not in the habit of giving it, but the lack still burns a little bit, makes it more real. "What should you have done instead?" 

Poe crosses his arms and looks away. "Listened to my superior officers like I was told?" It comes out grudging, it comes out resentful, and he wanted to apologize for it but - but he can't, not honestly, not when his actions felt right, when they felt like the only option he could take - 

"Always trusting a superior officer over the objections of your own instincts is /not/ the lesson you should take from this, Poe Dameron." He stares at her, and her glare scours a layer from his skin. "What you need to learn is how to tell when your instincts are /wrong/." 

Poe throws up a hand. 

"What the - how is that not the same thing?"

Her glare no longer feels like it will strip a layer of skin off of his face, but it's still pretty exfoliating. 

"Poe. In the last six weeks you were tortured by a man you once considered your friend, escaped custody and thought the man who saved you was killed, gone on several intense missions, seen the foundations of democracy in the galaxy destroyed, and found out a friend had been gravely injured and an idol murdered. That is more traumatic events than some people have to deal with in their entire lifetime. Trauma and emotional exhaustion can compromise your judgement. You've seen that first hand, now." 

His fingernails dig into his palms. He can't even disagree with her. 

"So, what am I supposed to do? Go through life doubting every decision?" 

"Hardly. What you need to do is watch yourself. Think about how events influence your emotions and how your emotions influence your judgment. Ask yourself: what am I feeling and why am I feeling it? It takes practice, so do it whenever you can." She tilts her head. "Picture a part of you that is held separate, observing the rest of you and taking notes."

"Easy for you to say," he mutters, but no chance of her not hearing it. It's not a fair thing to say, and he knows it, but it comes out anyway. Maybe she has a point about being compromised.

"Self awareness is not easier for force users, it's just more catastrophic when we get it wrong. My son, for example." 

Poe winces, and nods. Drags a hand through his hair again. "Okay. Self awareness. Think about why I'm doing what I'm doing, and why I'm feeling what I'm feeling. Anything else?" 

The General narrows her eyes at him. "You need people. Not people who listen to you, who agree with what you say you because you're the one saying it. That'll be the hard part for you. You're too likable for your own good. Rose has a good head on her shoulders, and so do Finn and Rey when they remember they're allowed to use them. Listen to the droids, not enough people do." She smirks. "If an astromech approves of your plan, reconsider it. R2 is worse than most pilots I've met, including you." 

Poe snorts, and then giggles, and suddenly he's laughing too fucking hard, he doesn't even know why. When he finally pauses to breath, he wipes his mouth. "Sorry, ma'am. Not sure where that came from." 

"It's fine. That's another response to trauma, by the way." He nods, his fingers clenched. "Poe, look at me," she says, and he does. "You made a mistake and people got hurt. Now be better."

The words ring with force and with Force, and Poe nods. 

"I will." 

"Good. Now go get some sleep, I know that boy of yours is worried." 

"Hey, he's not my -" Her eyebrows go up, and Poe laughs again, and it feels less hysterical this time, more like relief and less like a damn bursting. "Yes ma'am."


End file.
